The Shadow Government Ltd.: Stuff That Don't Fit Anywhere Else

On Our Way Back

We stopped at a rest area on the Parkway to get some coffee. When we came out there was a woman screaming for help saying that she couldn't wake her husband in the back of her car. He'd been throwing up and had laid down because he wasn't feeling well. Apparently, she'd been unable to wake him for about 10 minutes. We called for an ambulance and my brother-in-law found a paramedic who just happened to be in the fast food restaurant. He started CPR until the ambulance came. I don't think the guy made it. He seemed to have been dead for a while before the woman tried to wake him. I don't think I ever felt so helpless watching the EMT's work on him with his wife screaming and pleading all the while. I didn't know what to say or do for her. It just makes you think.

My New Look

I was getting tired of the old design, especially the color. I decided to go in the opposite direction and brighten up the look of this weblog. I think that the next step will be to change the name. I haven't been happy with The Thoughts of Hondonius Aurelius for a while now. It just goes to show you that you shouldn't pick your blog's name after drinking too many pints of ale. I'm also thinking of moving this blog to a different service, maybe TypePad, when my Radio Userland subscription is up in December.

Playing Catch Up

I haven't had any time to post or even to keep up with the blogs that I usually read. My wife just had gall bladder surgery which was complicated by the fact that she does not tolerate anesthesia very well. In fact, when she had our son by c-section her breathing and her heart stopped. That's why we went to New York Presbyterian for this surgery and got a top notch anesthesist. She's been in a lot of pain recently because she can't take the usually post-op pain killers either. But, she's getting better day by day and will be her old self in no time.

Progression

"There is no
steady unretracing progress in this life; we do not advance through
fixed gradations, and at the last one pause: -- through infancy's
unconscious spell, boyhood's thoughtless faith, adolescence' doubt,
(the common doom), then scepticism, then disbelief, resting at last in
manhood's pondering repose of If."
-- Herman Melville, Moby Dick

A Feeble Attempt

ITS a scientific fact: human brains are programmed for orgasms - with or without the actual sex act.
Perhaps nobody listening to football commentators will be surprised by
the news, claimed to have been proven by one of the lecturers at this
weeks Orkney International Science Festival. Dr Robert Lomas - a
solid-state physicist and an internationally known author on religious
symbolism - says that evolution has allowed humans to develop the
sex-free orgasm.
"Its the same reward mechanism that encourages us to share our DNA,"
said Dr Lomas. "But it can be achieved without the physical act of
copulation."
Only humans have this power to induce mental ecstasy, and its a
complex set of responses that can be achieved by learned behavioural
patterns or triggered by hyper-arousal during peak experiences, he
says.
"At times of hyper-arousal, our brains are designed to freeload on the
behavioural reward that encourages us to reproduce," he said. "And that
is another name for orgasm."

Duke William Gates?
No
Title of Nobility shall be granted by the United States: And no Person
holding any Office of Profit or Trust under them, shall, without the
Consent of the Congress, accept of any present, Emolument, Office, or
Title, of any kind whatever, from any King, Prince or foreign State.
U.S. Constitution, Article I, Section 9.
Ben Stein has a revolutionary, or maybe counterrevolutionary, way
to help the rich accomplish their desire for others to know they're
rich and to help the U.S. government pay off its debt: have the
government start issuing titles of nobility, for a sum.
In
ancient times, kings gave out such titles in return for loyalty in wars
or heroism in combat or some service to the state. Times have changed.
Now, in Britain, our close cousin and good comrade in arms, titles of
nobility are - and long have been - handed out for gifts of money to
the ruling political party. So many of these were given by brewing
magnates that Burke's Peerage, the main registry of nobility, came to
be called "Burke's Beerage." This may be changing in the "Cool
Britannia" of Tony Blair, but the basic principle still applies.
Here
in the United States, the government can take ordinary
multimillionaires - shopping-center owners, oilwell owners, real estate
developers and plastic surgeons - and suddenly lift them above the
peasants waiting in line at Alain Ducasse or trying to get a ticket to
a Broadway opening.
Suddenly,
a Joe Blow who developed a skin-care line that sells and is a nobody in
Biloxi can - for, say, $10 million - be Baronet Blow of Biloxi,
entitled to the homage that a title brings. Dr. Morton Cooperman,
orthodontist to the stars' children in Beverly Hills, can for $5
million be Sir Morton of Crescent Drive.
[T]he
really big titles, like duke, will go for, say, a billion dollars -
chump change to a Microsoft zillionaire. From then on, he can join an
incredibly select few who can call themselves dukes - and whose wives
can ask for hair appointments for Duchess Ballmer of Seattle. A title
of marquess may cost $50 million, and earl, say, $10 million, and maybe
lowly millionaires can become knights for just that paltry mill.
Of course, Ben assures us that this would not give the new nobility any special legal rights:
There
would not be a House of Lords, for example. We already have the United
States Senate, a very rich man's club. This system would sell just
prestige, but on a huge scale.
I think that Ben is on to something here.
From the NY Times [free registration required].
File under Stuff That Don't Fit Anywhere Else.
[...]

Something To Ponder

A Joke To End The Day

Way back in the Middle Ages, there was a monastery in need of a bell
ringer. The monk posted signs all over the town, and one day a man with
no arms came to the monastery to apply for the position. "I'm not one
to make sport of someone's disability," said the monk, "but will you be
able to do the job?" "Of course," said the armless man. "Take me up to
the bell tower and I ll show you."

They walked to the top of the bell tower, and the monk pointed to the
smallest bell. "Can you ring that bell?," he asked. The man stepped
back, ran forward, and smacked his face into the bell! The bell rang
long and clear. "Most impressive," said the monk. "Can you ring this
larger bell?" Again, the man stepped back, ran forward, and smacked his
face into the bell, and the bell rang perfectly. "We do occasionally
use our largest bell would you be able to ring that?" Again, the man
stepped back, ran forward, and smacked his face into the bell. Because
of its great mass, the bell did not budge. The force of the blow threw
the man backwards and out the window, where he fell to his death in the
courtyard below.

The monk ran down the stairs and into the courtyard, where a crowd had
already gathered, trying to figure out who this hapless person was. A
woman in the crowd turned to the monk. "Do you know who this man is?,"
she asked.

"No," the monk replied. "But his face rings a bell."

BUT WAIT YOU RE NOT GETTING AWAY THAT EASY!!!!!!

The monastery was still in need of a bell ringer. Days went by, and
there was a knock at the door. The monk opened the door to find a tall,
very muscular man. "I'm here for the bell ringer job," said the man.
"Well," said the monk, "you certainly appear to be more than qualified
but I will have to see you ring the bells, just to be sure."

While walking up the stairs to the bell tower, the monk struck up a
conversation. "You know, we had an armless man apply for this position
a week ago." "Yes, I know," said the man. "He was my brother." "I'm so
sorry," said the monk, as they arrived in the bell tower. "Well," he
said, "considering your size and build, we might just as well try you
on the largest bell." The man grabbed the rope, braced himself, and
gave a mighty heave. The rope snapped, the man stumbled backwards, and
fell out the window, meeting the same fate as his brother.

Again, the monk ran down to the courtyard, where the crowd had already
gathered, all murmuring and wondering who this man was. "Did you know
this man?," asked a nearby child.